


The Lullaby

by mockingdaze



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7071919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockingdaze/pseuds/mockingdaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the revolution came much, much later. The Hunger Games featuring Annabeth Chase.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lullaby

The background music to her walking to her death is her brothers’ screaming. Her partner is another nameless face from the Seam, and when they’re told to shake hands his grip is so flimsy and wet that she knows he’ll go out in the bloodbath.

 

Her escort, Aphrodite, is the pain in the ass to rival all others. She’s perky and colorful and everything Annabeth hates about the Capitol. Her mentor, Mr. D, is District 12’s only victor and a notorious drunk. She hates him, too.

 

She and her partner, Lee, are coal miners during the opening ceremonies. She remembers a stylist from years and years ago who actually put effort in 12’s outfits, but he’d been promoted to the more popular districts, ones more deserving of the effort. 12 is doomed, and everyone knows it. Their only distinguishing characteristic is Annabeth staring straight ahead, indifferent to the crowd’s cheering. She is beautiful and strong, despite her drab clothing.

She is pissed.

 

Training is a blur of different stations and the Careers one-upping everyone. Of course they would, and it’s probably a tactic shown by the Careers last year and those before them. Annabeth absorbs everything she can and masks just how good she is with the knives. When it is time to present the Gamemakers are tired and laughing and barely paying attention to her. When they finally draw their attention back to the floor she is long gone, and in her place a line of targets with knife points driven into the center of each.

 

Mr. D, to his credit, tried to prepare them a little from the interviews. He tried to coach them through different angles they could present--aloof, sexy, funny. Lee takes well to the last one. Annabeth gives up after sexy.

Her stylist didn't, though. In an effort to play up the stoniness presented at the opening ceremonies, Annabeth is given a scarlet red dress that shows a lot of skin. A lot. The other tributes keep glancing at her in a way that makes her blood boil, but she hides it. By the time she goes on stage--second to last--her anger is simmering just below the surface and she’s afraid she might explode.

She thinks she blows it. She nearly stomps to her seat, snaps out answers to the beloved Caesar Flickerman, and flat out rejects any questions about her family. But when she’s forced to watch the highlights later that night, the commentators think very differently--she struts confidently, answers indifferently, and is “choked up” when it comes to her home. She is alluring in their eyes, and not at all what they expected to come out of shabby little District 12. (No offense, of course.)

It is the night before they go in the arena, and she doesn’t sleep at all. She wonders if any of the others do.

 

Lee Fletcher of District 12, along with seven others, die at the Cornucopia.

She sings for them.

She sings for every death. She stays alive by trailing the Careers, pillaging their supplies and stopping for every person they maul. There are no swift kills, only stabbing or slashing or any other -ing and then leaving the bodies for dead. She lays their heads in her lap and sings them the songs she memorized as a little girl. She sings until their eyes glaze over. Only occasionally has she had to pull out her knife and end their misery herself. She will not kill in cold blood. She will not become a soulless animal that preys on the weak for survival. Her brothers are watching, and it is for them that she treats every person with the respect they deserve. She stays alive for the dying. She is a siren.

The Capitol nicknames her The Lullaby.

 

She is showered with gifts. She has forced an entire nation to see the errors of their ways, to see the horrors of their Games. She has forced those who cried out for blood to acknowledge the lives that were lost. Drew. Lee. Daniel. Erica. James. Rue. Marcus. Lucy. And more, not from just this arena, but the one-hundred and seven before, too. Each tribute had a name and a family and a home that was stripped away because of the Districts not complying to the rules over a century ago. The Capitol starts turning on the Districts. The Districts start turning on the Capitol. They are a nation divided by their sins and they are quick to try to point blame.

But they are united in one thing--her. This siren from the dark that validates the dying in a way that they wouldn’t have dared hoped to be when reaped. This angel sent from a better place to remind the people of their humanity. She is revered as a goddess with a voice of gold who sings to the lost children because that is what they are--children. They are watching children fighting themselves to the death and it is too late to save them but she--she is their hope. Their savior with promises that they can be redeemed. She is the lullaby of a horrific century old tradition that is finally being put to rest.

While the tributes are in the arena, oblivious to the outside world, they are unaware of what they have started. They are down to five and the rest of their universe is being held together with one golden thread. If it is severed, then reality will crumble, the dominoes will tumble over each other until none are left standing. And if it isn’t… the nation is on the edge their seats in anticipation of what will come next.

The final three. One is dead.

The final two. A single breath is held across the land.

The final one. She lives. The breath is released. There is silence.

…

…

…

 

“One-hundred and eight years ago, our ancestors fought. They drove each other to near extinction, and in penance they called for our children to be sacrificed.

“But no more. We have learned from their mistakes. We now know how to maintain peace, how to share with our neighbors, how to protect one another. They called for our division, but today we are united. Today we are not the Districts and the Capitol, we are Panem. We are together in the way that those before us could not afford to be.

“I, Elliot Snow, son of the former president Coriolanus Snow, am proud to announce that we have learned. We have healed. From this day forth, the Hunger Games are not needed, and are therefore outlawed.”


End file.
